Friday, April 20, 2012

{Somewhere In This City, Is A Road I Know}

Pity party is over. I swear. {I even read an article called ' Feel as happy as a pig in Mud' as I wrote tonight}

I woke up this morning and thought to myself Enough IS Enough. I have a million and one reasons to be happy. So, I started my morning by downloading a couch to 10K program. Because let's face it. I haven't really run since last July. Do the math on that=not good. I went for a run 3 or so weeks ago and couldn't even make it a mile without feeling like I might collapse. Running has always been hard for me. I hate that {Remember those beautiful children I've already planned for? Well, I'm also planning that they'll get their Daddy's genes} But, running makes me happy and it keeps me fitting comfortably in my clothes. {Let's just say that after....almost 9 months of not working out, the clothes aren't fitting so well.} I'm not gonna lie. I feel foolish doing a couch to 10K program. I mean, I used to run 7 miles for fun. I figured it'd be a sure fire way to build my endurance back up and not overdo it. So, I'll start Day 1 tomorrow. I figure by this fall, I'll be back to my old running ways.  I also organized some strength exercises from this month's Self magazine to incorporate. I have far too much spare time now to NOT be exercising. In addition to the happy hormones and the fact it is almost summer, I also have another reason to get in ridiculously good shape.... I'm participating in a boudoir photo session in July. Eeeek! I've always wanted to do one but I never had a guy in my life that would appreciate an actual photo. {Insert boyfriend who loves photos here} My beautiful and talented friend is trying to expand on her experience and invited me to attend. You should go check her out {

Switching gears now... I have finally hopped on board the Hunger Games obsession train. Yeah, I know. I'm late. I'm always one or seven steps behind. But seriously. I picked it up in a bookstore a few months ago and read the excerpt on the front cover and thought "eh...I don't wanna read about children dying..."  {Why this is writing in italic, I have no.freaking.idea. I can't seem to remove it. I've tried clicking the button. I've tried ctrl i. I've tried changing the font. Argh. It's driving me cra-aaa-zy} Then,the buzz of the movie started and everyone I knew was talking about it. I was on the outside. I had NO freakin clue what everyone was so excited about. So, I read the first book in about 4 hours while I was in Texas. {In fact, that was the highlight of my Houston trip} I didn't want it to end. I didn't have the second book with me so I started another one I did have hoping that I'd finish before I got home. No such luck. So. For a week, I've stared at book two, knowing that if I picked it up, I'd never finish My Friend Leonard {Which I didn't like as much as A Million Little Pieces, but I will admit, I bawled like a baby at the end...very well written. I don't care if it isn't a completely true story} Last night at 8:30 {which is a 1/2 hour before my usual bed time} in an attempt to divert my thoughts from the deep depression I seemed to have been spiraling into, I picked it up. Needless to say, I couldn't put it down. It took all I had to stop at part 3 around 11 because I knew I'd been in big trouble come 5:30am. {Because I'm an old woman now and I need at least 7 1/2 hours of sleep} The last book came in the mail today. Huge moral dilemma because I know that I'll want to start it immediately BUT I bought it for him. But he's not here to read it...and I could be done with it before he gets home... So, we'll see. The problem is, I feel like I need to drag it out for as long as possible. I can predict Katniss withdrawals once I'm finished. I'm not sure I could handle that. Then I'd be this lonely girl obsessed with a fictional character. That, my friends, is NOT going to make me any new friends. That's for sure. 

And to finish up here is a story from my first few Boston adventures:

On Wednesday a good friend of mine was in town for the Celtic's game. So that meant, I got to be a big city girl and take the T to Fanneuil Hall. Of course, because some girls have all the luck, my train got re-routed and didn't go all the way to Gov't Center.  Not only did I NOT know how to get on another train because the station was swarming with people, I had no idea where I was. So, me and my 4 inch heels partnered up with my Google Map app and found my way. I felt quite proud.  I have some serious wandering to do around this city to get acquainted. On my way back to the Prudential Center, I tried to stick my card into a machine that wasn't working. Two officers standing guard said "ma'am, you'll want to use another machine, that one isn't working. Long day at work?" {Why, yes. Yes, it was a long day at work but for the most part, I'm just an idiot. I don't think I'm that cut out for the city, though I'll reevaluate that in a few months} Upon returning to the Prudential Center, I am painfully walking to the escalator {the heels aren't made for city walking} when I spot a petite black man {no racism meant here. He was approximately 3/4 of my height and probably 1/2 my size} wearing a huge cowboy hat, pants that were too big, shirt tucked in with a ginormous belt buckle and boots walking towards me.  When parallel to me, he turns and says, "hey". Not wanting to be impolite, I say, 'hi'. He holds out a manilla envelope he has in his hand and says "New Edition just signed this. They're staying in the hotel here you know" In my head I'm thinking {Who the F is New Edition?!} I smile and nod. He says, "You are the most beautiful, gorgeous, pretty little thing I've ever laid eyes on". I'm sure I blushed and sputtered 'thank you' all the while thinking, he probably doesn't get out much. To which he responds, "I'm from Alabama, you know. I'm Ricky Henderson's cousin" and then he keeps walking. Who in the F is Ricky Henderson?  

This half regular, half italic crap is really messing with my head. I blame it for the round of hives I just broke out in. Yes, I'm still getting hives. It's rather ridiculous really. I realize I probably should start keeping a journal. One thing is for sure though. Every.Single.Time. I have a beer, I break out in hives. I thought maybe a gluten intolerance? But I eat bread and pasta often enough... I just don't know. My body is medical nightmare it seems, though it could always be worse.

Next up...trip to Maine tomorrow.

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